Concrete Angel
by Stardustt
Summary: The existence of child abuse and how other's fail to help them.
1. Concrete Angel

**Warnings: **This is an angsty story. Do _**not **_expect wizards or warlords or _any love interest_ in here. You _will_ find neglect and abuse though. It is short and quick and devoid of details what would explain about how Harry came about to live with the Durselys. Oh and i had to change some of the words to fit harry in, seeing as the song was originally about a girl. The original lyrics come after my ending notes. And now, _on with the story……_

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**CONCRETE** **ANGEL**

A boy of nine sits at the far end of the table and once again he can't help but look toward the others sitting away from him, their plates full of tantalizing food while his little plastic bowl carries only about a cup of what his family are having. He did not dare ask for another helping of food once he was done with what he had; not after what happened last night when he had wet his cot. One of the worst nightmares as of yet plagued him enough that the fear itself caused him to wet his bed. Desperately he tried to clean it as quietly as he could with a dirty shirt he grabbed from a trash bag in his closet; his little heart was pounding so hard that it began to hurt, all the while taking continuing looks towards his bedroom door. Just as he was about to flip the mattress over on the other side so as to hide the wet spot he sensed he was not alone and he threw himself against the wall when he saw his uncle standing there, glaring. He closed his eyes to the memory and choked down the little morsel in his mouth. He takes his time eating, using his fork to spear a single pea and chewing it slowly as to prolong it. He next does this with the few slices of carrots as his uncle goes about his day at work with his wife; his cousin Dudley reaches over and grabs a large slice of dripping ham and slaps it down on his still full plate. Turning back to his bowl, he again fought back the thought of him trying to ask for just a little bit more. Beatings always won over hunger so he continued to eat his dinner in silence, keeping his eyes cast down so as not to upon the food. His growling stomach kept him up all night and he was beginning to get cramps. Fearfully, he tip-toed down the dark stairs, hoping to get away with a small snack. He made it as far as getting an apple on the table basket and when he turned he saw the huge shadow of his uncle in the stairwell, causing the fruit to slip out of his hand. Fat silent tears began to fall as he watched it roll out of his reach. His uncle made no sound as he slowly made his way to him through the dark kitchen. "_I'm sorry_…_**I'M SORR**_"- but the blows cut him off and the screaming began….

He walks to school with a lunch he packed

Nobody knows what he's _holding_ back;

Wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday

he _hides the bruises_ by putting makeup on his face

_oh....._

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She notices it right away, the discoloration of the face, the dark circles under his puffy eyes… the way he _slowly_ sits down, his back _never_ once touches the back of his chair. She wants to question him, to ask if he was alright but she didn't. _'Surely if he can still show up to class then it might not be anything serious'_ she thinks as she turns her back on him and continues class. At lunch he barely eats. No one notices how he doesn't seem able to open his mouth wide enough to put food in, nor that he sips the broth of his soup with the straw of his juice box and leaves the noodles. No one has ever sat next to him because he always was always unkempt; wrinkled clothes, hair unwashed and matted, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't flatten it down. He timidly looked around and wished he had someone to talk to, someone to play with at recess; a friend of his _very own_ to chase the loneliness away. When he had finished eating what little he was able to push between his lips he just sat there as last night's punishment flashed through his head. He could only remember little of what was done to him but the most vivid scene he couldn't shake away was falling into peaceful unconsciousness as his uncle held him up against the wall by his neck and thinking, _'it's almost over, finally __no more pain_.' Someone dropped their tray on the way back to the counters and he flinched so at the loud sound that he almost toppled onto anther student, whom in turned pushed him roughly away. The peaceful feeling vanished, taken over by the fear of last night. He got up and ran out of the lunchroom, leaving everyone behind as they all laughed.

The teacher wonders but she _doesn't ask_

It's hard to see the _pain _behind the _mask;_

Bearing the burden of a _secret storm_

Sometimes he wishes he was _never born__…_

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He tears through the front doors and runs into the rain. It washes the tears that fall from his eyes as he heads towards the cemetery. He is sobbing now as he spots what he is looking for; staggering towards his destination he stumbles in the mud a few feet from the small stones, etched forever with the names of a mother and father he does not remember. His strength has left him and it is all that he can do just to slowly crawl his way over to them and lays in between his parents. It is in this place and _only this place _that he has ever found peace. Where, even though he is the only living soul there, he does not feel lonely nor fear. It is pitch dark, save for a few moonbeams cutting through the leaves down on him and his parent's grave. He sits up, realizing that he had fallen asleep. Slowly he rises on shaky legs and kissing his hand and placing it on both their graves in turns he slowly prepares for the long walk home. He continued his trek through the dark trees, knowing what would be waiting for him. There was a light in the upstairs room-_his room_. _'Well, it can't be any worst than what he usually gives me,'_ he thinks as he muster's up the courage to reach for the door knob. His little heart beats painfully with every step he takes as he goes up. Something is different…. _something has changed. _Just behind him a creak sounds out and he whirls around with small yell. There, smiling broadly and ever so quiet was his uncle, slowly making his way up to him. And for the first time he cried out to his mommy and daddy….

Through the wind and the rain

he stands _hard as a stone_ in a world that he_ can't rise above;_

But his dreams _gives him wings_ and _he flies to a place_ where _he's loved…_

_Concrete Angel..._

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The blows fall down upon him as screams fill the night. He is thrown across the room, and then kicked in the stomach. Crying out he tries to crawls away, opening his mouth to plead with the other for no more but nothing comes out. There is a fire in his belly and it feels as if he is suffocating, no air is passing through his lungs and as he falls to his side a trickle of blood trails down his cheek. Someone shouts for him to get up but he can barely move and receives another kick, this time to his head and making him flip on his back. For a moment everything went white and his head was humming. What little awareness he had left he used it in hope that his aunt would have heart and come to save him. Slowly turning his head he tried to focus on the door as more blood oozed out, sure that someone would come, someone that would've surely heard his pleas….andsomeone_ finally did_. As the black combat boot of his uncle came at him again he smiled and slowly closed his tear filled eyes……

Somebody cries in the middle of the night,

The neighbors hear but they _turn out the lights_

A _fragile soul_ caught in the hands of fate,

When morning comes _it will be too late…_

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It is a Saturday and dawn has arrived. The quiet house on Privet Drive seemed to sleep on-along with the rest of the neighborhood as rain gently sings them their lullaby. It is at that moment when a squad car quietly pulls up to the house. A lone officer approaches the door. He has to bang loudly at four separate times before someone finally comes to answer. Words were spoken and to the large sleepy boys dismay he let's the officer in. It is again quiet in the neighborhood but it was not to last. A scream breaks the silence. Sounds of a struggle took place within the walls. A gun shot out and another scream filled the air. Two more patrol cars screech to a halt on a manicured lawn and a bed of roses. Windows and doors began to open with the curiosity of neighbors. Once again sounds of a struggle poured through the door as a crowd approaches the house. For one moment all was quiet. No one dared to move, waiting for what was coming next. Another scream, this time ear splitting then three loud pops. Anyone who had been outside ran back into their homes or behind the safety of cars. The only sounds left to be heard were broken sobs and the sound of a distant siren. From a distance, eyes of green watch in somber silence as an ambulance finally joins the other vehicles. A long moment later they come out with two stretchers and a hysterical thin woman in handcuffs. A large boy is led to an unmarked car without any difficulty or emotion. He appears to be in shock to all he had witnessed. The patrol cars drive off first, then the unmarked one carrying the boy. Last is the ambulance and as it drives away thunder fills the sky and the clouds lets loose as if they themselves sobbed for the loss of innocence.

Through the wind and the rain

He stands _hard as a stone_ in a world that he_ can't rise above;_

But his dream _gives him wings_ and _he flies to a place where he's loved…_

_Concrete Angel..._

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Those who weren't there for him before congregated around the small grave. They all decided to choose a spot where the sun always shined. Whether out of guilt or shame, the school and people from the neighborhood donated money to help pay for his funeral and his tombstone. It read: '_Here sleeps a boy who only wanted to be noticed. Who wanted to live a child's life. It is this world's tragic loss when an innocent leaves us but it is the Lord's gain when he beckons a new angel home'._ Below the date of his birth and death were chiseled into the black polished stone. 'July 31, 1980-March 27, 1988'. And on top sat a small angel boy, starring up to the heavens with all the happiness in the world.

A statue stands in a shaded place,

An angel boy with an upturned face;

_His name is written on a polished rock,_

A_ broken heart_ that the _world forgot..._

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A breeze gently blows across his cheek and he smiles as he lifts up his face into the warmth of the sun. He is new and unmarked as in the beginning of his birth. Although he appears to be alone, he smiles as he senses a presence approaching. He runs through the trees and he is as swift as a deer and light as the sunbeams upon his small body. It is then that he hears it. Someone is calling him by name and even though he does not recognize the voice his heart tells him who it is. He quickens his pace and laughs joyously.

"I'm here-_I'm here!_" he calls out as tears fill his eyes. And it is at that moment when he finally sees. It is the two people whom his heart tried to help him remember during the worst of his times. He stopped where he was at and stared for a moment, drinking them in. "_MAMA!_" he shouted in a sob as he took off as fast as his little legs could carry him. Both met him halfway and he jumped into their arms as they fell to their knees. His mother rocked him on her lap as his father tried to sooth him while kissing his head. "My baby…my _beautiful_ baby boy…" his mother chanted as she cried. He pulled away to look up at them and became afraid. "Am I dreaming? _Are you really here?"_ They both nodded and picking up his son in his arms his father stood up and embraced him tightly again. "Poppa, _why are you sad?_ We're back _together _now," the small boy questioned. "I'm not sad. _In fact_, I've _never_ been _more happy_ than I am _right now_," he said as the tears trailed down his cheeks. "Are we ready to go home," his mother asked happily. "_Home_…" the boy whispers as if it only existed in fairytales. "Well Harry, are you ready to fly?" asked his father as he put him down and his smile is brighter than any star he had ever made a wish upon. Taking a hold of both his parent's hands they approached a ray of sunshine breaking through the trees and disappeared into its beam.

Through the wind and the rain,

he stands_ hard as a stone_ in a world that_ he can't rise above;_

But his dreams _give him wings_ and he _flies_ to a_ place where he's loved_

_Concrete Angel...._

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**Author's Note****- **I was watching you-tube one night and clicked on Martina McBride's video 'Concrete Angel.' Well let me tell you even though I've seen it before I as a blubbering mess after seeing it again. But I knew there was a story in there somewhere. I'm sorry if anyone was put off by Harry's non magical self. He actually is but he doesn't know it because all this takes place before he discovers his magical self. And yes, I **KNOW** the world would be in ruins if he died before his time but I just wanted to make a quick and simple topic for me story. I know I'll get flamed for this one but I still think it was worth the time I spent and nothing will make me regret it! Z *stamps foot childishly* **On a serious note**, if you see or suspect of any precious child being neglected or abused, **_PLEASE!_** contact someone, it _might_ just save thier lives.......= ( Now, those who wish to get the lyrics of the song here are the original words to it....

**CONCRETE ANGLE**

She walks to school with a lunch she packed  
Nobody knows what she's holding back;  
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday,  
She hides the bruises with the linen and lace;  
oh

The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask,  
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask;  
Bearing the burdon of a secret storm,  
Sometimes she wishes she was never born;

Through the wind and the rain,  
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;  
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.

Concrete Angel

Somebody cries in the middle of the night,  
The neighbors hear but they turn out the lights;  
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate,  
When morning comes it will be too late.

Through the wind and the rain,  
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;  
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.

Concrete Angel

A statue stands in a shaded place,  
An angel girl with an upturned face;  
Her name is written on a polished rock,  
A broken heart that the world forgot.

Through the wind and the rain,  
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;  
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.

Concrete Angel


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Begining's Notes****- **First time author here. I've read so many wonderful stories on this site and on others as well that I thought i'd give it a try. When I first discovered slash it was with Draco and Harry. What a shock when saw that fans were writing such naughty-naughty stories about them. I was hooked on the first paragraph, sadly to say. Although I sometimes still read about that pairing, the couple that has stolen my heart (and haunted my dreams) are Harry and the luscious Cedric Diggory. The first few chapters will be mild but the overall of this fic-let will be rated M. Seeing as MA stories are now allowed I unfortunately can not put all that I would love to see my pair do =/. Anyways, I'm hoping that some may find this story interesting, humorous at some points, and maybe a bit steamy in others. Those who do not wish to read anything with two guys taking part in sexual situations should stay clear of this story. You have been warned and now it's out of my hands.

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**My Infinity****- Chapter 1**

The day had _finally_ arrived for Harry to leave the house in which lived his aunt and uncle and his only cousin Dudley. He'd been waiting for this day the _second_ he stepped foot back into this prison. He wouldn't even dare call this foul, cold place a home. Although the outside seemed to appear as a charming modest brick house- black shutter windows with flower boxes underneath them, roses growing along the walk way, a scrolled iron bench near the door and even a flowery wreath that read, 'Home-Sweet-Home', it was all a sham. No one knew what _really_ went on behind those walls. There was no love there...not for him anyways…and never would be. The only love (_if that's what these demented people called it_) in that place, that was ever shown was to his fat slob of a pig cousin Dudley. He got anything and _everything_ he ever wanted...never daring to deny him of anything. Harry was never even allowed to have anything _remotely_ nice. Every year, when he would come home with the new clothes he had purchased from a shop in Diagon Alley, they'd be taken away; burned then replaced by Dudley's stretched out, faded, raggedy hand-me-downs.

At first he used to stand up to his uncle, refused to let them be taken away; but after a while the beatings weren't worth it and so he could do nothing but just stand there, forced to watch. So while they went out for their weekly 'family outings', he always hung his head down in shame, feeling the eyes of all as they stared at him; the boy whose pants were held up with a rope as a make-shift belt and badly food stained shirts. He wasn't even allowed to bathe everyday. _'Freaks like you are born are filthy, from the inside and out...they can 'never' be cleansed no matter how much they try,_' he was once told. Harry was caught one time sneaking a late night bath and sported a black eye along with a cracked rib the next day to the hospital, having to lie and say that he had fallen down the stairs. He wanted so badly to tell the doctor what had really happened but Uncle Vernon glared down at him with the most evil of all looks while the doctor was examining the injured boy with his back to him. It was times like this that he would wonder if he was born under a black rain cloud or a solar eclipse.

But it didn't matter...not now anyways because he was invited to stay at the Weasely's for the Quidditch World Cup, than head out to Hogwarts the next day. _'A whole week!'_ Harry kept thinking as he smiled happily all the way there. When he had arrived at their house he borrowed some clothes from Ron, (which were a bit bigger but fit him way better the rags he usually wore, seeing as Ron was just a bit taller than Harry- almost the same size), until he was able to buy some more of his own later. It was a beautiful day when they had headed out for the game. Everyone was in good spirits and even though it was a bit chilly, to Harry it was _perfect._ As everyone walked on they met up with a man who sported bifocals and a five o' clock shadow. During introductions someone had dropped down from the large tree that was next to them, landing right behind Amos. "Ah, and _here's_ my son, _Cedric._ I'm sure you all know each other by now?" he questioned, putting his arm around his son's shoulder proudly.

_'It's him'_, ran through Harry's mind. _'The most 'popular' guy in all of Hogwarts. _Scoffing softly, '_I don't see what's all the __fuss __is about with the girls…tall, __lanky__, head full of reddish-brown hair_', ran through his mind with scorn. Frankly, Harry didn't really _see_ what was so special about him at _all_. To him Cedric was just another bloke from Hogwarts. _Except_…for the fact that his face _may_ be just a_ little_ bit _nicer_ to look at than the other guys, whom had pimples or overbites or even noses that seemed much too large for their faces. He he thought back to the first time he laid eyes on the tall Hufflepuff boy. He had thought it odd that his heart should skip a beat at the sight of him and that his stomach would tighten for a second when looking upon the guy.

**{{Flashbacking}}**

**{{--**It was during lunch when it had occurred. Harry had been laughing at the teasing Hermione was giving Ron about liking Madam Rosemerta, the witch who owned Hogsmeade. Ron denied it of course, although his pink face _totally _gave him away. Grinning, Harry got up to leave, stating that he had Quidditch practice and that he'd meet up with them later at Potions. "_Don't be late_ Harry. You _know_ how Snape loves to find any reason for you to join him in detention," Hermione called after him. Rolling his eyes and nodding, he turned and caught the eye of a boy, an older boy. A boy of fair skin with a head full of thick auburn hair and it made him stop in his tracks. Ron took notice and questioned him. "Who's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the object of his question with his head. Ron glanced up to where his friend's gaze led him to. Smiling Hermione answered, "Oh…that's _Cedric Diggory_. He's _also_ on the Quidditch team. Harry, i'm _surprised_ you don't remember who he _is._" Harry gave her a confused look.

_"Should I?"_ he asked as if he could care less and she sighed. "My how the mind _withers _away when not being used on a daily basis," Hermione sniffed with a dirty look. "_Hey_! _**Someone's**_ a bit _snippy_ today," he retorted. "Well it's the truth, _is it not?_" she snapped as both boys glared at her. "Oh honestly," she huffed. "How can you _not _know who _he_ _is?_" she asked exasperatingly and received blank stares. "Oh, _come on __Harry_! He's _only_ the one _who won last year's Quidditch game!_" Harry gave a small gasp and shot his head up, only to find Cedric still watching. "_What?_" Ron almost shouted. "_Two_ _numb-skulls_…that's what you both are," she spat. Then it all came crashing back to the boys.

How Harry had seen Cedric racing towards the snitch, how he was only a couple of feet away from the Hufflepuff and _gaining,_ and then…he remembered that the wind suddenly wasn't so loud any more…that the roar of the crowd below became…a _whisper_, and a numbness began to quickly cover over his body. After that, other than him waking up in the hospital's wing with students encircling his bed, he could not remember a thing of what had happened before he blacked out. _"That was him?!"_ they both gasped at the same time. "Ron! How in the _**hell **_did you forget _that!_" Harry turned to him accusingly and pushing at his shoulder. "_**Me??**_ What about _**you!**_"

"I had a _reason_…_**heellooo**_…_Dementors?_…on _**my **__**Ass**__?!_" Ron looked miffed and crossed his arms. "Yea well…it must've been the trauma of our devastating loss that caused _my_ temporary amnesia," he said as he looked away. "_Temporary?_" Harry and Hermione retorted in union, earning a blushing glare from the other. "I will _never_ understand the male mind," Hermione sighed in disgust. Harry took another quick look and this time was rewarded with a smile. Feeling heat color his cheeks he quickly turned away. "I can't believe I blocked the loss of the game," he muttered to himself. "Hey-o'l huffypuff is looking this way," Ron grunted. Hermione took a quick look and shrugged whilst Harry continued to see what else he had forgotten. "He's been very popular ever since that day and almost _every_ girl here has a crush on him," Hermione stated, receiving a snort from Ron. "I bet _you're_ one of those girls as well I suppose?" he asked accusingly. Smiling softly, _"no comment''_ was all she gave them as she bit into a corn cake. Harry stood up from the table. "I'm heading up to class," he said as he looked at his friends. "We'll meet you up there," Ron said as he finished off his stew. Harry nodded and walked down the grand hall but before he turned the corner he took a chance to peek....._and green eyes met grey_.--**}}**

Lost in the memory, Harry tripped over a log and almost landed face first into a muddy embankment. ''Harry, _whoa!_" Cedric quickly grabbed a hold of Harry's arm and pulled him back. "Are you alright?" Cedric asked but all he got for an answer was a dazed look and an unmanly squeak. Cedric raised an eyebrow and a smirk. ''So…was that a yes?....no…_maybe?_...." Even though the other wasn't smiling Harry could hear the humor in his voice. "Yea, i'm fine..._thanks_," he muttered. "Good to know..." Cedric replied and this time he did smile but it barely reached his cheeks. Trailing his hand down the length of Harry's arm Cedric squeezed the smaller hand softly just before letting go. "Will you guys' _**CCOOMMEE OONNNNN!**_ _Geeeeezzze..."_ exasperatingly whined Fred loudly, extra on the first two words. Laughing, Cedric went ahead of Harry, leaving him behind and feeling stupid at what had just happened. ''Oh Harry...watch out…there's a twig to your left...wouldn't want you tripping over _that_ as well..." Cedric teased and chuckled. _'Yep...just __kill__ me now...don't care who does it...or __how__...or better yet…give __**me **__a nice heavy rock and __**I'll**__ kill him'_, thought Harry, as he imagined a pair of brown shoes poking out from under a large bolder.

When they finally reached the port key Mr. Weasley instructed all to grab a hold of what looked like to be a dusty beat-up, moth eaten boot. _'_That_ can't _be it_...can it?' _he wondered. He saw all do what was told of them so shrugging and getting on his knees he placed two fingers at the toe of the brown boot. As Mr. Weasley began to count, Harry felt fingers slide over his. Looking down he saw it was Cedric who had covered them. Amazingly, all seemed blind to this so when he looked up at him questioningly Cedric just gave him a wink. Harry blushed and once again looked back at they're connecting fingers when he felt Cedric rub his index finger over his, slowly, almost intimate-like, making him scowl up at the older boy. But before Harry could pull away, he felt a hard yank from just behind his navel and then either the world began to quickly spin or it was them, neither one could tell. Finally, what seemed to be the _longest_ fifteen minutes of his life but in reality was about two, they all heard Mr. Weasley shouting to them to let go. "_**What?"**_ screamed Hermione, looking up at Ron's father, absolutely horrified. "_**I said…...leeettt GOOOOO….**_**.**_**!**_**"**

All color drained from Harry's face and his two best friends. Cedric reached out with his other hand and placed it on his forearm, nodding reassuringly at him. For some odd reason the look in those grey eyes made Harry trust him more than Mr. Weasely's command and before he lost what little nerve he had let he closed his eyes and let go, screaming along with the others as they fell down, down, never ending down, and landing _painfully _on a grassy yet still harden field. For a long moment he laid there, relishing on how still…how _unmoving _the ground was and how he never loved the solidness of land as more as he did at that moment. Opening his eyes the first thing he saw was Ron, face down on the ground, kissing and nuzzling the grass with his cheek over and over and _over_, promising to 'never leave such a beautiful, _non-mobile_ and safe place again;' cooing, "_lovely earth, unmoving, solid ground that I love, I will never leave you again_.... ", repeatedly as he caressed the softness of the grass.

Harry rolled his eyes and couldn't believe he was friends with _that_. He looked up just in time to see a pair of brown corduroy'd legs approach him and again found a pair grey eyes looking down upon him. Cedric, smirking down at him…_again._ "Once more I'm here to rescue you, _am I not Harry?_" he mocked, reaching down to pull him up before he could even answer back. "This is becoming to be _quite_ a habit of yours _isn't it?_" And with a wink he strolled away grining. Harry growled and thought, '_If he wasn't so... 'cute?'-tall...I __meant __'__**TALL**__'…_," he sighed exasperatingly, '_i'd __hex__ that smug look off of his face...'_. Ahead of him he caught Hermione pointing to Cedric's ass and Ginny nodded, both bursting into giggles. _'Oh geeebis'_, Harry scowled in mutter as he rolled his eyes, following the rest of the group to the game.

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**Author's Note****- **Ok, so here you have it. My first attempt at a story. Wasn't as painful as I thought it'd be, hmm…but anyways, yea. I lived through it and I guess that's all I can really ask for. All reviews are welcomed.


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